Remembering
by CleverGirl8
Summary: Bast has been with Kvothe for a long time, but can he ever confess his true feelings to his teacher? BastxKvothe fluffy oneshot.


Kvothe, for the first time in a long time, was sleeping peacefully. He was lying on his side, facing the wall, a patchwork quilt covering his whole body save his head. Sitting next to Kvothe's bed was Bast, his student, friend, and one of the Fae. Watching his sleeping companion, Bast smiled. His smile was not one of joy, or even happiness, but of resigned sadness and a deep longing. Bast ached to reach out and touch his Reshi, to smooth the stray locks of red hair back from his face, to run his fingers over Kvothe's pale skin. The dark-haired Fae sighed.

He'd long considered himself to be beyond what the mortals called love. And, for the most part, that belief had proven itself to be true. The only emotion he'd ever felt for one of his many female companions had been lust. Sometimes they had felt something more than that for him, but Bast had never returned the emotion. He had always assumed that his feelings for Kvothe ran in a similar vein. Sure, he had always felt a twinge of desire for the red-haired arcanist, but that feeling was common for him. Kvothe was an attractive man, but he was Bast's friend, and the Fae had never allowed his desire to change the nature of their relationship.

Until now.

Bast could not say exactly when his feelings for Kvothe had deepened into love, but he could no longer deny what had happened. It had started slowly, with worry and fear when Kvothe was hurt, with small glances to gauge his teacher's reaction when Bast brought home one of his many girls. Then Bast had begun watching Kvothe, observing his varied emotions, his graceful movements, really seeing what an incredible person his Reshi was for the first time. But with this understanding came a deeper knowledge of how far Kvothe had fallen.

As the years passed, Bast had yearned to comfort Kvothe in his depression, to take his Reshi in his arms and show him the hero that he was to Bast, the hero that he was meant to be. Each time the desire struck him, either in the form of a terrible, fiery want, or as a deep and slow-burning longing, Bast ignored it, choosing instead to hold some red-haired girl in place of the man he loved. If those constant excursions to find a girl bothered Kvothe, he never let it show. Bast had purposefully tried to flaunt his relationships in front of his teacher for a while, but Kvothe simply wasn't the jealous type.

And Kvothe, little by little, was slowly slipping into the mindset of an ordinary innkeeper. He had even given Bast an iron drab one morning, completely forgetting that the metal would scorch the skin of his Fae assistant. That incident had shaken Bast more than he cared to admit. His Reshi was slowly fading into an ordinary person, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Then Chronicler had shown up.

Bast couldn't stand the man, but he could not deny that he owed Devan Lochees a tremendous debt. Kvothe was gradually recovering himself, bit by bit, memory by memory. His story had been slow and reluctant at first, but now he was so caught up in the telling of his tale that he failed to notice Bast clenching his fists in anger as he spoke lovingly of Denna.

Denna.

That damn girl. That stupid, stupid, thrice-cursed little bitch. She had been beautiful (or, at least, her ears had been), there was no denying that, but Bast had always been repulsed by her. More accurately, repulsed by Kvothe's blind devotion to her. As his Reshi spoke of Denna, spoke of how she teased him, tempted him, tricked him, Bast wanted to scream, "Who cares about that little slut!? Forget her! What about ME!? I will love you for all eternity, and I will never, ever, leave you like SHE did!"

But he kept silent as always, not wanting to hurt Kvothe or damage their relationship. Bast sighed again, wishing he could find the courage to tell Kvothe how he felt without fear of rejection. The more logical side of his mind was currently at war with itself.

"Of course he loves you," one side argued. "He obviously cares deeply for you."

"Yeah, as a friend. That's all you'll ever be to him, and you know it," the other side shot back. Just then, Kvothe shifted in bed, rolling over onto his back. That movement caused the quilt to slide off his body, revealing his perfectly toned bare torso.

Both halves of Bast's logical mind promptly passed out.

Unable, and in part unwilling, to stop himself, Bast reached out one hand to his Reshi's face. One long finger brushed Kvothe's lips, memorizing their soft feel and shape. Bast ran his thumb down the side of his teacher's face, gaining confidence as he indulged in the feel of Kvothe's smooth skin. His other hand lovingly stroked the soft red hair on the side of Kvothe's face. The arcanist smiled happily in his sleep, unconsciously moving into Bast's touch. Encouraged by this reaction, the Fae let his hands wander lower, ghosting his fingers over the scarred alabaster skin. Kvothe's even breathing hitched in his throat as Bast found a sensitive spot where his collarbone met the bottom of his throat. Growing bolder as he watched Kvothe react to his touch, Bast pressed his thumb gently into the dip at the base of Kvothe's throat, caressing his neck and shoulders. He was rewarded when Kvothe moaned loudly in his sleep.

Upon hearing that delightful sound, knowing that he was the cause of it, Bast lost all sense of restraint. Wrapping his long, pale, fingers in flaming red hair, he pulled the still-sleeping Kvothe into an intense, passionate, kiss.

The kiss was like nothing Bast had ever experienced with his many girls. Kvothe tasted vaguely smoky, like a smoldering coal that has not quite gone out yet. The arcanist began to respond to the kiss, opening his mouth to Bast's tongue pressing against his lips. Almost groaning aloud from sheer joy and pleasure, the Fae closed his eyes, savoring the taste of Kvothe's mouth.

He was so focused on the kiss that it came as a total shock when he opened his blue eyes to find Kvothe's green ones staring back at him. Bast inhaled sharply, jerking his head backwards in surprise, face burning a shameful red. There was a small silence that extended into a deeper one. Bast found himself counting the seconds, something he often did when Kvothe lapsed into one of those heavy silences.

Finally, the red-haired arcanist darted his light green eyes up to meet Bast's again. The Fae did not know it, but the combined shock and passion had caused him to partially drop his human glamour, leaving his entire eyes a blue that was at once deep as the ocean and light as the sky. Each drew his own conclusion from the other's eyes.

_This isn't just some passing desire he feels for me,_ Kvothe though. _Only something drastically intense could cause him to drop his glamour like that. _

_Green, _Bast thought. _Light green. His eyes are light green. Not dark. He isn't mad at me. By the doors of stone, he isn't mad at me!_

The silence stretched on, settling over the room like thick, heavy, dust. Bast was on the verge of fleeing when Kvothe spoke.

"Bast…" The Fae in question hissed lightly at the sound of his name on Kvothe's lips.

"Reshi, I-…" Bast trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"Metheglin."

"I…What, Reshi?"

"Metheglin." Kvothe repeated. "You taste like metheglin. Very…intoxicating. I could get drunk on you, Bast." Bast flushed, both in happiness and at the bluntness of the comment.

"You taste like fire and smoke, Reshi. You could keep me warm at night." Bast's blush, if possible, got even deeper. He couldn't believe he was saying those things to Kvothe.

"Ah, yes. But if you play with fire…you might get hurt."

"I'm not known for avoiding danger, Reshi." Bast smiled happily and lowered his lips to Kvothe's once more. "And I'm not afraid of getting burned."

Later that night, Bast lay awake in Kvothe's bed, thinking. He knew that now there would be no more empty silences with his Reshi, that he could fill those moments with affection and adoration. But with the passing of that fear, a new fear began to creep into Bast's heart. It was a silly fear, but one that came with any relationship. As if reading his thought, Kvothe suddenly awoke in Bast's arms.

"Don't worry, Bast." He murmured reassuringly. "I will never stop loving you." Bast smiled in the dark, gently pressing his lips to Kvothe's forehead.

"I know, Reshi. I love you, too."

There was a new silence in the Waystone Inn that night. It was a welcome silence, and almost joyful silence. It was the silence of two lovers, of mutual understanding, the contended sigh of a child, the peaceful silence between a man who is young despite his many years and a man who is old despite his youth. It was the silence of shared love.


End file.
